One of the worst things about single life, for me, is not having anyone to tell when I feel low. Yes, I can call or text family or friends, but it's just not the same as having that person to sit with you and hold you and make you feel safe, and that's it's going to be OK. I'm that person for Oliver, I don't have that person for me. He's gone, and left me feeling anything but safe, every emotion apart from everything's going to be OK. The anxiety is back. Not with a vengeance; it's not as bad as it was before Christmas, but more with a poke in the back, a sneer. Like a playground bully it's always lurking around the corner waiting to step into my path and spoil my day. Im not sure what's triggered it. But I've woken the last three mornings with the shallow breath, the racing heart, the feeling of unease and fear. Adrenaline surges and I realise I'm clenching my jaw again. And again. And again. I am putting it down to my approaching...
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